The pickpocket
by ClaireScott
Summary: It's a sunny day at the race track when Arthur caughts a pickpocket. Shameless Arthur smut.


The grip around her wrist is like an iron jaw trap, painful and inescapable.

"What the fuck you think you doin'?" His deep voice hisses at her ear, warm breath ghosting over her skin.

Nonetheless she's getting goose bumps, feeling icy rivers running through her body. Caught. Dammit. She's dragged out of the crowd, desperately trying to free her arm, but she has not the ghost of a chance. The race track is full of laughing people, enjoying themselves, and nobody seems to care about her fate, about a woman being abducted by a dangerous looking man. He pulls her to the empty stables, to a stall in the back. Within seconds she's pressed to the wall, his hand around her throat, his face so close to hers that she's able to smell his scent over the odor of horse shit and straw.

"Pickpocketing a Peaky Blinder? Really?" He hisses and she shakes her head as far as his grip allows.

"No? You sure? How many wallets and watches will I find if I search your pretty dress for evidence?"

"Please ...," she whispers and an evil smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Do you know whose wallet you've tried to steal?" He wants to know and she nods, croaking "Arthur Shelby's" so miserable that the grip around her throat loosens a bit.

"That's a confession, aye?" He asks at her ear and once again, she nods.

Maybe he tempers justice with mercy if she cooperates.

"Bad girl," he whispers. "Such a bad girl."

His free hand closes around her breast, his thumb ghosting over the nipple.

"Nice tits for a mouldy pickpocket. But no wallet in your corsage."

She feels and hears his fast-paced breath at her ear while he opens the buttons of her dress, slowly, tantalizingly slow.

"Maybe you store the stolen goods further down. In your panties. Gonna have look before I call the coppers. Just to be sure you won't get rid of any evidence before a proper body search in the police station, aye?"

"Please," she whimpers and closes her eyes, placing her hands on his shoulders.

In the moment he shoves her panties aside his lips meets hers, his kiss forceful and urging. He takes her lower lip between his teeth, biting softly, making her jump. She lands directly on his outstretched fingers, which slip easily into her wet, hot pussy.

"Aaah," she moans and now she grips his wrist, pressing the heel of his hand against her labia.

"Nope," he says, pulling his fingers out, "no wallet or watch in there."

"Arthur, please," she whispers, giving him a pleading look.

"Don't even know your name," he answers and she smiles: "Maisie."

"That's your real name, aye?"

"It is, I swear." She answers and leads his hand back to her core. "Take me, please."

"And then what?" He grumbles, his pointer finger flickering over her clitoris. "Beg me for forgiveness and hope that I won't call the coppers after I've fucked you?"

"Yes. A free fuck for you, no punishment for me."

"You're pretty. I'll think about it." He grins and she feels for his cock, trying to convince him.

"The wallet is further up," Arthur whispers hoarsely and Maisie answers: "Not interested anymore."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Please, fuck me already."

"As you wish, pretty pickpocket," he answers and lifts her up, holding her with one arm and his weight against the wall while freeing his cock.

The second she sinks slowly on his length is pure bliss and she moans so loud that he closes her mouth with a kiss. Her dress will be ruined, dirty and maybe ripped from the wall but she doesn't care. She's fucked so exquisitely that release is all she can think about. His forehead is pressed in the crook of her neck, and all she can do is take. His length, his fast thrusts, his seed. His thumb is pressed on her nub, rubbing it frantically, making her gasp in pleasure. It's hard and fast, the fuck and their release. She smiles as he stills, seconds after her peak, the deep groan making her shiver. He waits only a few seconds before pulling out and carefully placing her on her feet, back on earth.

"Fuck ...," he curses, takes the cap off and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

"Aye." Maisie answers. "That's exactly what I thought."

She rearranges her clothing, turning around so he can see her backside, and gives him a look over her shoulder, watching him closing his trousers and adjusting his cock.

"Gorgeous. Alright." He nods after looking up and pats her backside gently. "So, why the fuck did you try to steal my money, love?"

"I wanted to buy some ice cream. And you were so busy talking to this bloke. I didn't want to interrupt."

"What happened to the money I gave you?" Arthur wants to know, and opens the door to the stall.

"I passed it to John's children. They couldn't find him and wanted ice cream too." Maisie gives him a smile, before she sighs: "Bloody hell, Arthur, you scared the shit outta me. I thought you were ... seriously mad at me."

He grins and winks at her: "That's part of the fun."


End file.
